It's Not What It Looks Like
by Madam Mare
Summary: Mary and Marshal get stuck in some compromising positions.


Title: It's Not What It Looks Like  
Fandom: In Plain Sight  
Characters: Mary/Marshall  
Category: Humor…one can only hope at least  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
Summary: Mary and Marshall get stuck in some compromising positions.  
Note: My first completed IPS fic. Why must my muse be most active when I am trying to sleep? This could really work as two one shots I suppose, bu since they have the same theme, I stuck 'em together with an undisclosed time lapse between them.

XXXX

"Remind me why it is that I am here again?" Marshall tore his eyes from the dark ceiling and glanced over at his partner.

"Because if I have to be stuck here, then so do you."

"But he's—"

Mary quickly cut him off, "Don't even start with the he's not even your witness crap! You are stuck here with me so suck it up and deal."

"Yes dear," Marshall muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

'Damn.' Marshall silently cursed her sharp hearing. Out loud he said, "I was just saying how interesting it was that the Coast Guard trained pigeons to find people lost as sea."

"Marshall?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up!"

He began to open his mouth for a retort but with a glance at the wall he quickly thought better of it. A petty argument with his partner at 2:15 in the morning was not what he wanted to keep him from getting his sleep. He rolled over on the narrow couch trying to get comfortable without falling off. They were both more on edge than usual, so he chose to use that to excuse Mary's temper being shorter than it normally was. That along with the fact that she had already rolled off of her couch about three times.

Mary heard Marshall tossing and turning on the small couch and for a moment she felt slightly guilty at taking the larger of the two pieces of furniture, but it quickly passed, and he didn't really put up much of a fight, she rationalized. She flipped to her back, her exhausted mind going over the days events that led up to her and Marshall being stuck in their current location.

She had a feeling that the day was not going to go well when she got into the office, only to discover that the coffee shop had messed up her coffee order. She briefly wondered if it was done on purpose, but let the thought go when Marshall offered to swap coffees. His choice in beverage wasn't exactly at the top of her list, but it was better than whatever concoction the coffee shop had given her.

Mary could still remember the first time she took a coffee order from Marshall. She stared at him with an expression of abstract horror as he rattled off a half-caff soy caramel machiatto.

"What?" He asked as she stared at him.

"You are such a girl!" She accused him, yet she made sure the shop made his drink exactly the right way, and even made them throw in some extra caramel, at no charge of course. She had a feeling that he only offered the trade to keep her from going back to the shop to give them a piece of her mind.

The whole day was downhill from there. Her computer crashed, her stapler jammed, her witnesses were not being cooperative, Marshall was full of more facts than usual, she got a noontime call from some bar, requesting that she pick her mother up (she pretended to speak only Russian), and then, at five thirty when she thought that the day from hell was finally over, the phone rang. Stan answered and she knew by his side of the conversation that she wasn't going to like whatever Stan was going to tell her. A witness was compromised and WITSEC couldn't get him to a safe house until the morning. Until then, they thought it best that he be moved to the secure office, with a marshal to guard him. Of course the witness turned out to be one of her cases so she had to stay with him.

She managed to corner Marshall as he tried to sneak out, "Where do you think your going?"

"Home."

"Nuh uh," Mary shook her head, ignoring the feeling of acting like a five year old. "You're staying here."

"Not my witness," Marshall continued to the exit.

"Marshall," She knew her voice was dangerously close to a whine.

"Fine," He spun around, "But I get the bigger couch."

Which led her to their current positions. The witness was fast asleep secured in Stan's office with her and Marshall each on a couch in the lounge. She squeezed her tired eyes shut and rolled over to her side.

And continued to roll right off the couch. Again.

"Damn it!" Mary roared, angrily raking her fingers through her hair as she climbed back onto the couch. She was going to be black and blue in places that she didn't want to think about for weeks at this rate.

"We could always trade," Marshall snickered.

"We could always trade," Mary mocked, making a face.

Marshall sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the couch and getting to his feet. "Here, push the two couches together, that way you *can't* roll off." He began to drag his couch over to hers, setting them up in a way that reminded him of those toddler beds with safety railings. He wisely chose not to share that information with his partner. "All set."

"But where will you sleep?" Mary snarked as she lay down.

Marshall gave her a long hard look, "I'll sleep on a desk or something."

Mary stared at his back as he began to clear off a desk, beginning to feel guilty about giving him a hard time. She knew he didn't really *have* to be there with her. "I'm sorry Marshall. I was just kidding. We can share," She held out her version of an olive branch.

Marshall continued to clear the desk, "I wouldn't want to put you out."

"I said I was sorry. Come on, you know how much it pains me to use those two words."

Marshall put the stack of books down and turned to face her, "It's just killing you on the inside right now isn't it?"

She shrugged.

He dragged a hand through his hair, causing it to spike up in different directions as he silently ended their bantering and climbed into their makeshift bed. His eyes were just starting to droop when he heard Mary's voice.

"Don't even think about trying anything tonight."

"Wouldn't dream of it, but your wit never ceases to amaze," He closed his eyes, finally drifting off to sleep, Mary following shortly thereafter.

A strange noise gently awoke Mary the next morning. Her face was buried in her pillow, but she knew that there was no danger. The noise continued and it sounded suspiciously like someone snickering along with a lot of whispering, with a few giggles tossed in here and there. She opened one eye and saw some movement in her peripheral vision. A bright light quickly flashed through the air, which seemed to wake Marshall up. With a groan, she rolled over to her side away from Marshall, to glare at whomever had woken her up. She saw her witness, leaning up against the wall next to Stan's secretary Kim. She quickly identified them as the source of giggles and whispers. She sat up with narrowed eyes to search for the source of light. Her sweep of the room only turned up Stan, perched on top of a desk, a smirk upon his face.

"Good morning sunshine," He greeted.

"What's so good about it?" Mary grumbled.

"How was your night?" Mike, the witness, asked with a barely contained grin.

"Peachy, and yours?" She sarcastically retorted. She turned to Marshall who had fallen back asleep. "Wake up Marshmallow!" She landed a hard punch to his shoulder.

"Not much of a morning person are we?" Marshall refused to rise to her bait.

"You didn't know?" Mike cracked, causing another fit of giggles to escape from Kim.

"What the hell is so funny? Do I have something in my hair or something?" Mary gave Mike and Kim hard glares; Stan seemed to have escaped her wrath for now by going to his office.

"Nothing," Mike held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Forget I said anything, I'm sure you uh, have your hands full, with other, uh, things right now."

Kim's face turned an interesting shade of red as she tried to contain her giggles. Giving up, she quickly fled to Stan's office, Mike following behind.

"What was that all about?" Marshall stood up, stretching.

"Damned if I know," Mary muttered as she too stood up and headed over to her desk where she noticed her email icon blinking. She clicked on her mail icon and her mailbox opened to reveal that she had one new email from Stan. "What the hell?" She muttered as she noticed that it was CC'ed to Marshall, and began to wonder why he didn't just come out of his office to talk to them. She felt all the air rush from her lungs as an image slowly filled her computer screen, pixel by pixel.

"What's wro—" Marshall looked over his shoulder, and then nearly gave himself whiplash as he whirled around. "The hell?" He asked stunned as he took in the image on the screen. The time and date stamp confirmed that it was taken only minutes before, but he had no clue what was going on. Filling the seventeen-inch screen was an image of himself and Mary lying on the couches, with Mary giving him what suspiciously looked to be like a hand job.

Mary was beginning to realize everyone's strange behavior that morning, and Mikes crack about having her hands full.

"Ill kill them. I'll kill them all," She quietly fumed. "I will hide their bodies where no one will ever find them," Her voice rose as she neared Stan's office. "Stan!!" She bellowed, kicking his locked office door.

Marshall sat back with a grin as he x'ed out the picture. It was times like these that he was thankful he had such a, well for lack of a better word, ballsy partner.

XXXX

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an aggravated sigh. He had just gotten off the phone with the chief and he now had to pass the news on to Mary that her latest witness had decided to let herself be interviewed for a news broadcast. He wasn't looking forward to sharing the information because he knew it would piss her off, and when Mary was pissed, well; it just didn't bode well for those around her. Physically or otherwise. Deciding he couldn't put it off any longer, he picked up his coffee, shoved his chair away from his desk and headed towards the office containing his two best marshals.

Through the large window, he spotted Marshall sitting at his desk, but Mary's desk was suspiciously empty. As he got closer, he noticed that both her coffee and her blackberry were sitting atop her desk, so he knew she couldn't be too far. Reaching the doorway, Stan was about to ask Marshall where his partner was, but his words died upon his lips as he took in the sight that presented itself to him. Marshall was pretty much seated facing the door, but he failed to notice Stan because he was staring intently at his computer screen, quietly talking to himself. Staring a little too intently, Stan mused. His eyes traveled down to spot a heel sticking out from under Marshall's desk. A heel that was attached to a very familiar looking shoe. Any thoughts that may have been floating around in his head of his employees having a perfectly plausible excuse for their position were immediately shattered when Marshall began to speak.

"Right there…yeah…try a little to the right…right there…yes!" His voice rose in excitement.

Stan bit his lip, his face flushing.

"No, you lost it. Damn it, it was close. Try jiggling it a little bit…right there…a little more…don't yank it!"

Stan suddenly felt dizzy; an unfortunate side effect of unwittingly holding your breath, and his coffee cup tumbled from his hands. He let out a string of quiet curses as Marshall jumped in surprise, his hands banging loudly on the top of his desk. A second later he heard another resounding bang that he could only imagine was the top of Mary's head colliding with the desk.

His suspicion was confirmed when a string of curses, both louder and longer then his own, came from underneath the desk.

Marshall appeared to be frozen to the spot, eyes locked with Stan's, an expression guiltier then any snitching witness, gracing his face.

Mary's ranting continued as she climbed out from underneath the desk, "You dofus! What is wrong with you? I could have cracked my skull open!"

She cut her outburst short when she saw that she didn't have Marshall's attention. She glanced over her shoulder, saw Stan, narrowed her eyes, and without missing a beat picked her rant back up. "Hello, I could have gotten brain damage, and then who would you go to when you need help? Stan?"

Stan threw up his hands in defense at unwillingly being brought into the dispute. Luckily Mary seemed to be through. She silently stalked over to her desk, pocketed her blackberry, and made a hasty exit.

Stan took a moment in the silence to gather his thoughts. Marshall was still staring at him like a deer in the headlights. "Sorry to interrupt?" He offered dryly with a smirk.

"It's not what it looks like!" Marshall quickly explained. "She was helping me with my computer cord," He winced, the excuse sounding lame even to him.

"Is that what they are calling it these days?" Stan shook his head as he turned on his heel and headed back to his own office, forgetting about the purpose of his visit.

Marshall soon found himself alone in their office, a baffled expression etched into his face as his eyes shifted back and forth between Mary and Stan's respective exits.

"Aw crap!"

~Finis!~

8-16-08


End file.
